


King's Servant

by Clopez174



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Smut, Plot, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clopez174/pseuds/Clopez174
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*OF COMPLETE STORY*<br/>You pass out in the depths of Mirkwood and awaken to find yourself in the custody of the great wood-elves. Innocently, you venture out into the kingdom in hopes of getting your memory back, only to stumble across a very particular being who will, later in time, greatly influence your heart and mind. This story deals with the adventures you will go through as a King's servant and how an unexpected love between human and elf begins to slowly unfold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark outside. Not because it was night, but because you had walked too deep into the forest of Mirkwood. You’ve lost the path for several days and are nearing the brink of death. Your feet are swollen, your body is covered in wounds, your hair is tangled with branches, and you’re tainted with dirt. At last, you give up and accept your fate. You go and lay by a tree. You’re exhausted and simply just can’t keep up anymore. You know death is only hours away. You can’t help but sob quietly in desperation. Reluctantly, you close your eyes and fall into a deep slumber.

You’re picked up.

_-Swinging from side to side-_  
_-You oddly feel nothing but solace-_  
_-Everything is but a haze-_

You can hear distant voices in an unrecognizable tongue  
“ _Have I died?_ ”

This is the last thing you remembered. Everything else is but a blank space.

  
You awaken. You immediately notice you’re clean. All of your wounds are stitched too, not healed, but stitched. You immediately scope the environment. A heavenly soft bed, exquisite silk covers, and a room of such caliber, (which, in all honesty, seemed rather overdone to you). You had on a pale green, sleeveless garment. It was a fine stitched gown, beautifully aligned with turquoise crystals and gems.

_such elegance_

you whispered, admiring the tiresome work. Looking further, you notice a cracker like bread wrapped in giant leaves. It reminded you of the kind that your old uncle used to bring from his adventures with the elvish folk. Suddenly, your heart drops. You come into realization.

“ _Could it be?...Could I be in the custody of elves?... Of’course. I’ve been captured by elves, woodland. Damn it._ ”

You’ve never met elves before, but you’ve well heard the tales of the how mighty, wise and elegant they were. You’ve also heard of how unwelcoming they are of strange folk, especially humans, like yourself.  
You recall your near death experience. Halted by your memories, you recollect your priorities. Promptly, while getting the sheets off, you feel a stinging pain. You stumble to the door and open it. Immediately, you’re greeted by two tall people, or better yet, elves. Your eyes widen as you gaze upon them in awe. They were covered in beautiful royal armor and carried stakes. All you could think was “ _Holy shit_.” Such a fair complexion, such beautiful features, beautifully fine hair. They looked almost fragile, perhaps even porcelain. This was your first time encountering their kind. They truly did live up to their reputation, bravo. After 5 minutes of being star stuck by them, you realize they’ve been talking to you this whole time.  
“So would that be a yes?”  
Having no absolute idea what they just asked you, or what you're agreeing to, you reply:  
“Yes indeed”  
Immediately, you regret saying yes.  
“Alright then. Training begins tomorrow morning, at sunrise. Lunch will be served at noon, in the kings hall”  
\---“ _Wait, What the hell? Training!? Kings hall??_ ” --  
“We usually don’t accept humans into this type of service but the king has, oddly, made an exception for you,” said the guards glancing at each other.  
You seemed kind of honored for this, but know that now is certainly not the time. Knowing you had questions in regards to your arrival, the guards prevented further interrogation by departing In split seconds.

“ _Great. Well now what?_ ”

It seems you’ve gotten yourself into a rather uncomfortable situation. Determined to find out, regardless of the tactics, you set out into the hall in search for them. Barefoot, which made you uneasy, you storm towards the only opening you see. Passing what appears to be giant tree roots, and detailed wooden carvings, you reach the end of the hall. Your jaw drops. You’ve never seen such beautiful architecture. Your heart almost unable to capture the view. Gazing almost hurt. It was like a fairy wonderland, less colorful, but just as beautiful.  
Reminding yourself of your mission objective, you spot some elves that resembled the ones earlier. You follow them up a path of stairs, when suddenly, you pass elvish women.

“ _Dear god, them too! Such overwhelming beauty!_ ”

In the middle of thought, you overhear some of them laughing, in your direction to be exact. This annoys you, but you disregard it. You keep to yourself and continue up the stairs. Passing other, yet again, beautiful elves, you notice smirks and giggles. Particularly towards yourself, again.  
You wondered if these laughs were in concern with your mortality, or possibly worst, your relatively unmemorable appearance. These thoughts haunted you. You’ve never been as self-conscious as you are now. Perhaps it’s because you’ve never encountered such prepossessing folk. You’re embarrassed, but manage to shake the awkward idea off. Almost losing the guards, in the middle of your inner-conflict, you dart toward their silhouettes. Once you made it up the stairs, you were addled, for there was no one there. You have lost the guards. You wanted to go back and look again, but the thought of being ridiculed made you stay. Perhaps it was best you waited till your confidence recollected. You begin inspecting your surroundings. Instantaneously, you see a path that is followed by a rather flamboyant chair.  
As you prepare to step over, an unanticipated rush of fatigue and pain in your abdominal slams into your body. Unsure of what just happened, and interrupting your train of thought, you head towards the elegant chair for rest. The pitter-patter your bare feet as they touch the wood floors echo throughout the hall. You sit down on the feather-like cushion, and let out a sigh of relief. A stinging pain covers your body. “ _These wounds…_ ”, You mutter as you unacknowledged them.  
As you sit in this chair you begin to examine it, seeing as there was nothing else to do. Beautiful dramatic carvings, very extravagant looking gems were etched, and elvish letters. Like a child, you begin trying to make out the story written in pictures. A few minutes pass by when you suddenly hear footsteps nearing. Someone’s coming. You’re startled and hide as quickly as humanly possible. It stops.  
You slow your breathing and remain calm. The footsteps come closer, and closer. Minutes pass before a sound was made. Unsure of whether anyone is still there, you try and peek.  
A subtle, yet demanding voice suddenly arose from afar,

“…How seemingly odd. It seems as though something has managed to linger its way into my chambers.”  
Your heart drops and you gasp quietly.

“ _Maybe I should check if he's a guard? He'll help me surely.”_  


“Tell me, stranger, why must you linger in the shadows?” inquired the voice, this time much closer.

In fact, this was very much close. Chills were immediately sent down your spine. You hurry to turn around. As you turn around, your wounds immediately worsen.

In front stands a tall, slender, blonde elf greets you. His features unarguably outranked all. He was crowned and dressed in the finest fabrics you’ve ever encountered. You stare in awe. So, very pretty. Not so suddenly, you begin to forget about your wounds. It's almost as if his beauty were medicinal.

  
“ _Wait crown? Dear god this is the king?_ ” you felt yourself shrink at this thought.

You wished you were wrong and that elves perhaps wore crowns regularly.  
But no, this was unmistakably the infamous King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. Famous for his hatred of dwarves and humans, cold heart and stubborn opinions.

And you just sat in his throne, mistaking it for a chair.

“ _OF’COURSE IT WAS A THRONE, HOW COULD I BE SO IGNORANT_ ”, you stagger mentally.

Embarrassed and ridiculed, you awkwardly stand in silence. Not knowing what to say. For a few minutes, you just stood. Finally, being able to get your thoughts together, you’re about to speak when he cuts you off.  
He stares at you, not batting a single eyelash. Standing tall and prominent, he speaks,

“Tell me, whore, is it customary in your realm to sit on other king’s thrones and then hide, like a coward, when caught”  
Instinctively you reply,

“My apologies, your sire, but I was unaware that this was the kings chamber. Please forgive me, for it was not my intention. I am simply a daft mortal with no clear judgement”  


“ _Yes I’m kissing your ass, but please let me live, dear Valar_ ,” you begin praying mentally.  
His eyes narrow,

“Ah, so you speak. I can hardly believe one could be so senseless as to _unknowingly_ sit on my throne. Does this wrench have a name?”  


Annoyed at his tone of sarcasm and the way he refers to you, you exclaim,

“Would you be so kind as to stop referring to me as such. There’s no need to defile me in such a lewd, perverted way.”

You wanted to take that back seconds after saying so.  


He rushes over to you, with the intent to kill. Within the span of 3 seconds, he draws his sword and aims to your chin. Your heart drops and begin to feel this ugly, burning sensation in your stomach. You knew you should’ve kept quiet.  
He looks you over and replies, almost mockingly,

“Oh? You do seem quite sure of that, yet you _dare_ to walk my halls wearing nothing but a slip. Better yet, barefooted.”  
Shocked that he didn't just kill you, you reply,

“A slip? This is no slip, I assure you, sire.”

  
His expression almost lightens, and he backs off. He crosses his arms and replies,

“Oh, but I do beg to differ”.

  
Re-examining the cloth, you soon swell up with embarrassment. You were in such a hurry out of the room, you didn’t realize this resembled a slip. 

_“Then again how could I have known, these damn elven slips look ridiculously fancy for my taste_ ”.

Your face turns bright red, you try to conceal it by looking at the ground.  
You’re stunned having walked out in this, and reminisce on the laughter that was shed upon you earlier.

  
“I take that it’s your first visit to an elvish realm”, he stated.

  
“U-um, yes that’d be correct, sire” You reply, hardly speaking.

  
“That was a statement. It’s bluntly obvious. You also must lack wealth in your family, correct?”

  
Unsure of how to reply, you mutter “…yes, sire”.

  
“Tell me, human, what were you doing in the middle of the forest all alone? Did your partners, perhaps, forsake you? Or perhaps you were spying on my kingdom and lost your way?”

  
_“That’s right! I was lost in the forest! What happened exactly?”_  Your memory is still a blur.

  
“I-I don’t recall. My memory has rendered me useless. All I can remember is waking up here.”

  
He nods, turns around and walks towards his wine bar. Whilst pouring his glass, you ask,

  
“Was it you whom rescued me? If you don’t mind my asking, Sire”

  
Setting his cup down, he takes off his long silver coat and places it on his throne.

“Do not confuse me for a caregiver who rescues lost animals, I simply lack maids at the moment, and you happened to come our way” His voice resonated within the hall. Terrifying.

  
_“That must be what I agreed to earlier…”_

  
Deciding not to inquire for further information, for fear of angering him, you back down.

 “My apologies, sire”.  


“This incident in my chambers will be dismissed just this once. Test me not child, for you will regret having done so”

you could almost sense a hint of mockery, as if he enjoyed seeing you shrink.  


“I am grateful, Sire. I assure you this will never happen again.”

As you proceeded to bow, an unfriendly reminder of your open wounds sends through your body. You try and keep standing with all your might, but the pain is simply unbearable. You've pushed yourself past your limit. You cry in agony and begin to fall.

  
Instantly, you feel a warm presence wrap around you. As your wounds begin to bleed through your beautiful slip, you feel pressure put against them. Your heart begins to randomly fasten its pace, the pain slowly subsides. You smell sandalwood and feel something tickle your cheeks, perhaps hair? You open your eyes and can see the king looking at your body, as if observing you.

 “Such pathetic, fragile creatures”, he murmurs.

  
Holding you up with his right hand and slowly beginning to caress your chin with his thumb, he leans in and whispers something in elvish, you have no idea what it means. He wraps you up in his cloth and ordered the guards to escort you back to your room.

 

 

 


	2. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay lol

_**** Soft, distant voices. The clashing of cabinet doors, and reoccurring bird chirping**** _

You inspect your surroundings. It appears you’re in the same room you started in. Still feeling overwhelmed, you attempt to shake off the sleepiness by standing on your feet. It felt rather anomalous that you could stand with such ease, but you took no note of it. You can sense someone’s presence. You venture off when you, unpleasantly, remember your incident. Quickly, you sit back down and peek into your slip to inspect your wounds. Oddly enough, there was no blood, no stitches, and not even a single faded scar. Puzzled by this, you further inspect your body in detail. Still, you see nothing.

Where could they have possibly gone? Nothing could explain why they’ve disappeared, perhaps this was a dream. You’re utterly confused. Suddenly, you recall the special environment. You were in Elvish territory. Noted for their eternal life, excellent crafting skills, and unnatural medicine, the Elves are the most reputable folk of all who roam Middle-Earth. It was unbelievable, almost frightening, to have healed in such little time.

_To think the tales were true…._

Admiring the enchanted medicine, you spot a glimpse of something, or someone, moving in a room to your left. You turn and spot a tall, auburn haired, she-elf dressed in a beautiful velvet gown, smiling at you. As she proceeds to fold towels, she comments;

“I see you’ve recovered nicely! Poor thing, you were in an awful condition.”

Unintimidated by her kindness, you reply, “Yes, it would seem so.”

She stops what she’s tending to, and waltzes on over to your side and introduces herself.

 “My name’s Cíleth. I’m the lead servant, or maid, if you will, for The King’s chamber. I’ll be training you for the coming year. Naturally, Customary training lasts several decades, but being that humans have such a low lifespan, ---------Er, um,”

You stop her mid-sentence, and ask, “Where you the one who tended to my wounds?”

“Yes, that’s right. I was appointed by royal order. I couldn’t resist. But honest all you needed was 3 days’ worth rest. That’s all.” She smirked, almost sarcastically.

Comforted by the she-elf’s nonchalant character, you reply, “It’s been three days? That’s almost unreal! Well either way, thank you very much! The wounds are gone! I feel healthy as ever! Elvish medicine is surely magnificent. I don’t know how I could ever repay you” You exclaim, as you shoot out of your sheets bowing.

“Oh my, there’s no need for such gestures child! Sit, please. It’s my pleasure, really.”

You smile, and sit back in place. 

“Now, I’m curious as to whom you may be. Not just me, but the rest of us too. Being rescued by the King, himself, is a great honor! Not just that, but to train  _and_  serve the kingdom, it was all quite enlightening really. We usually take no heed to lost travelers.”

He rescued me? you begin to fluster at this thought.

“Well I’m not sure as to why I’ve been selected to serve, honestly. Though, I do recon he mentioned something in regards to staff shortage...” You kept serious, studying the she-elfs facial movement.

“He what? My dear, we are indeed short, but for a human to be brought to train! Ha! I nearly thought it was a joke. There’s no doubt that there’s something odd about this situation. No doubt whatsoever.” She bursts with laughter.

You feel perplexed as to why he’d go to such lengths to lie, 

 _there’s no need to lie, right?_ \---Cíleth breaks your train of thought and asks;

“Well, anyways, how may I address you?”

“(y/n)’s just fine”

“Ah, and where are you from, (y/n)?” she questioned.

Seeing that you’re having some trouble answering that question, she attempts to comfort you,

“It’s alright, my king had mentioned your loss of memory”

You can sort of remember what had happened, just barely though. 

“Well...I was traveling from Esgaroth on my way to visit my kin in the lands of Rohan. I was to meet with my uncle, Théoden, though it seems to be that I may have lost my way on Old Forest Road…That is all I remember...”

Promptly, the curious she-elf asks; “Théoden? You don’t mean to tell me that he’s of your kin? Do you?”

Her eyes were wide and she leaned in to her your answer.

“I do, and I should expect I’ll be able to contact him, correct?”

Cíleth’s expression became uneasy. “I don’t see why not” answered the she-elf with a forced smile.

You don’t notice the atmosphere due to your substantial lack of familiarity regarding elven expressions, so you take no notice of this.

“Regardless of that matter, now that we’ve gone well past being strangers, you are now a servant in training. Training starts today, meet me in the courtyard at sunrise after you’ve changed and bathed”, She commands.

You sit down and nod in agreement.

Nearly out the door, she casually remarks, “Try and wear the appropriate clothing this time. In fact, your uniform is in the bath on top of the desk. Your first impression was a rather peculiar one, don’t you agree? Let’s avoid such occurrences.”

Reminded of the horrors, you turn bright red and reply, “Yes of course, ma’am.”

She smiles and leaves.

Seeing that there’s still some time before sunrise, you decide to draw a warm bath. You walk towards the bathroom and get struck with impressive realization. That is, Elves don’t take bath time lightly. Not lightly at all.

The bathroom walls were beautifully decorated with blue and white mosaic tiles. Counters were roofed by coveted soaps, essential oils, and other bathing luxuries. Catholic windows towered over the bathing tub. Everything was never before seen.

After looking through all the different soaps, and testing the temperature variation in the water, you manage to finally take a bath. An hour easily passes, by the time you’ve finished.

As Cíleth has stated, the already decided uniform was placed neatly on top of the desk. You grab it and notice the resemblance between the she-elf’s uniform. It glides perfectly over your supple skin, making you feel exquisitely comfortable. Looking out the bath window, you realized that sunrise is nearing. Frantically, you run out and go in search for the courtyard, hoping it’s semi-recognizable. You begin scorning yourself,

_why did I agree to meet her in a place I know nothing of._

You run here, there and just about everywhere in search of this courtyard. All of the areas are so open that you can’t tell. An opportunity arises when an elf passes you by. You decide to ask for some assistance.

“Excuse me, I apologize for the interruption, but could you perhaps give me direction to the courtyard?”

The stranger turns and bursts into laughter, “Ah, well look at you! Back to health, and already you’re lost!”

Addled by his familiarity, you respond, “You know of me?”

“Yes, I do. I reckon you’re the human girl we picked up on our way back from scouting” he remarked.

“Oh, seems I’ve made quite a disturbance.” You reply.

“Yes, quite a first impression too!” he smirked.

Annoyed by his friendliness, and seeing as you had no time to idly stand by and chit-chat, you ask again, “Pardon my bluntness, but I do have somewhere I have to be. Would you be so kind as to give me direction to the courtyard?”

“I was actually on my there! I’ll lead the way, young human. Er- What’s your name?”

“It’s (y/n)….I come from Esgaroth.”

“A quite beautiful name, coming from Lake Town. I’m Legolas, it translates into Greenleaf in your tongue. Address me as you’d like.” He happily states.

Aware of his kindness, you bow and take his side. Taking a second look at this elf, he looked rather familiar. He had this youthful appearance accompanied with soft features, platinum blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. He seemed elegant. You kept walking and kept idle conversation. Reaching the location, you spot Cíleth, accompanied by elves watching her. Legolas pops in front of you and walks down the stairs. As he’s reaching the elves, they all diverge their attention from the she-elf and immediately bow towards him. Dumbfounded, you realize his ranking, and bow. He notices your bowing, and lays his hand on your shoulder,

“There’s no need, you’re an exception. Simple respect will do.”

You are completely baffled at the amount of respect he showered you with. Knowing your place, you continue to bow.

“Don’t say such things, it’s because I have no place here that I bow. Please accept this, or I’ll feel more out of place then I do already” you snap.

He acknowledges this statement and nods. You would not let yourself stand out even more, for you felt the need to gain respect from these elves. There’s a silence along with controversial expressions being exchanged within the spectating elves. Surprisingly enough, they all shared the same thought.

_**\------ “Who is she?” ------------** _

Stepping off the last step and onto the ground, you see Legolas walk towards Cíleth. You’re too far to hear their conversation, but you still watch their interactions closely. 

 

* * *

 

 

“My lord, you have met (y/n),"  She inquires, bowing respectfully.

“Yes, she’s quite riveting.” He stated.

“What do you mean?” she furthers, with her heart semi-battered by his kindness.

“Nothing...Simply that she’s worth studying. Has she told you anything, Cíleth?” He asks.

“It appears our suspicions were accurate. She claims kinship with Théoden.”

There was shared silence. “Cíleth, would you care to do me a favor?” he muttered.

“Yes my lord, anything, I’m here to serve you.” she declared.

“If I am to report anything back to my father, I have to be certain of it. Would you challenge her? I have some questions that need answering.” He says, eyes locked on (y/n).

 

"But, my lord, can she fend against me?" She asks, concerned.

 

"We'll just have to see, won't we? Don’t go easy," he demands. 

With no hesitation Cíleth bows and turns to the (Golden/Chest-nut/Ginger + Haired) human.

 

* * *

 

 

 Within minutes, you see Cíleth turn to you. She’s walking with her eyes fixated on you. That kind, warm smile was no more. You’re afraid she might scorn you for troubling the royal elf.

As she reaches you, Legolas orders the audience back to their posts.

“Miss (y/n), Forgive me for this, but it seems my lord has asked me to duel you. Take this sword and spar with me” she proclaims.

Unleashing her weapons, she tosses you a sword. You completely fail at catching it. Picking it up from the ground, you say,

“Come again? I’m by no means a fighter. I’ll surely loose. I cannot fight you Miss Cíleth. Please forgive me, but I must decline.”

Instantly, she replies “I’m afraid that was not a question”

She then charges at you. Not surprisingly, you trip and collapse, bent on ankles. You can sense Legolas studying your every move. Afraid, confused, and unsure of how to handle the situation, you stand back up and take a stance. Cíleth heads towards you. This time, instead of falling, you have been injured and scraped on your left cheek. This causes you to release your sword. It was useless to fight. You knew nothing of weapons. She returns your weapon, and the she-elf proceeds to attack…again. Only managing to block her strikes for several minutes, you miss a step and fall, causing you to hit your head against a boulder. Cíleth promptly came to your side and lifted you back up on your feet. She’s seen that you’ve been exhausted past your limit. However, seeing that Legolas hasn’t lifted the order, she reluctantly continues.

With all your might, you manage to balance yourself, and take your stance. You draw your sword. With you standing on the complete opposite side of the courtyard, she bolts in your direction and begins to attack, this time less aggressively. You can tell she was going easy on you. Nevertheless, you manage to block every single strike, and even retaliate. Realizing that your attitude has changed, Cíleth begins upping her speed in movement. Unaware of her change in rapidity, you keep a steady pace, swaying from side to side, and feet stepping in an orderly fashion. You had no need to exhaust your energy in speed. It was as if, suddenly, you were someone else. You have never felt such a beautiful sensation. It was frightening, really. You felt beyond heavenly, magical. As you blow strike after strike, Cíleth leaps from her position and onto the staircase, and decided to take a different approach. She throws her sword onto the ground and sprints towards you. She draws two smaller knives from her boots and accelerates even faster. You take no heed of this intimidation, and lunge to dance with her. As the both of you move in unison, it was evident to viewers that your attempted blows are no longer on human level. Better yet, far from human. No mortal could move with such ease, such speed, and such eloquence.

“You two, end this at once. I have seen enough. Cíleth, begin the training. And to you, Miss (y/n), I’ll be seeing you.” Legolas commanded.

The both of you stop at once. You drop the sword and bowed. Your trance was over. Though you were not able to strike her, you felt satisfied to have discovered this side of you. All you could think about was the next opportunity you’d have to hold a sword. Legolas finishes by speaking something elvish to Cíleth, and then addresses his leave. Cíleth wipes the sweat form her forehead and is smitten with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, genuinely intrigued.

“What’s funny is that you never mentioned how well of a fighter you were. Never has an elf, much less a human, been able to hold their ground against me. I could barely keep up! Your movement, it’s excellent. Where did you acquire such skill?” she asked, eyes open and all.

“I- uh-, I’m not entirely sure. I still don’t remember much. This just felt natural. I’m not sure what to tell you.”

She looked rather suspicious, or maybe not. Who knows? Elves have limited expressions. Either way, she puts her hand on your head and says,

“Well it matters not where, or how, you acquired such skill. There’s still much to do. Let us heal you and begin your training.”

 

* * *

 

 

“She has claimed to be one of Théoden’s kin, and has proven to be an excellent swords woman! The evidence is clear as daylight! If she’s who we suspect, she could prove to be a great asset to our kingdom. Cíleth tells me she remembers little. If we could just use that to our advantage, we coul-”

Thranduil cuts Legolas. “Do not speak to me with such abrupt ideas. If she is, indeed, the girl whom we suspect, that’s all the more reason on why we have to return her. At the moment we aren’t sure, so until Rohan sends scouts, or she regains her memory, we will keep her here. Once she’s proven her identity, we’ll return her.”

“But Father! You must understand her value! She must sta-“

Thranduil at this point is concrete in his tone, “It is precisely why I am going to return her, soon after she regains her memory. Legolas, we have no need for further alliances. You should worry more about protecting our borders, rather than go worrying for such things. ”

“Then why do we have her as a maid and not a guest, should we not treat her like one?” snapped Legolas.

“Once again, we cannot jump to any conclusions on who the intruder may be. If anything, I am being lenient. She is not being mistreated or harmed. I’ll treat her as so until she claims ownership of that title, hence making it certain she is the one. Tell me Legolas, since when do you care for the alliances of this kingdom? Last I heard, you had no care in the world for claiming ownership of my throne. Why do you insist on keeping her here? What interest do you have in this mortal?” questioned the enraged king.

Legolas keeps quiet, for his father had a valid argument.

“I have recently received word that you and our new maid have been on, rather, familiar terms with each other. Keep in mind, your royal status. Succumbing to such gestures, heeds unwanted, impure questions. Keep your distance, and mind clear from false judgments.” ordered his father.

“I assure you, I have no interest of such in this child. I am simply being hospitable. If you wish for me to keep my distance, then so be it. I will, however, still contact her, if need be, for information regarding the situation in Rohan”

Thranduil nods, hesitantly.

Legolas acknowledges his kindness and bows. “Thank you, father”

 

* * *

 

 

You follow Cíleth around for several days. You’re taught “servant duties”, and things of that sort. You were first given a tour of the kingdom and forced to memorize it. You were also taught how to clean beds properly, work the wine room, set the dinner table, and even recognize some elvish phrases. Much work was accomplished over the course of several days. The final task of the week was to learn how to work, or organize, the Kings closet. ---

“Here we have all the many silks and fabrics that the king’s clothing are sewn from,” Cíleth begins, “Many different types of materials are never touched, due to lack of use. He prefers his standard s-.”

Cíleth’s voice zones out from your mind and you begin inspecting his hanging robes. You touch them, and feel the same velvety texture you once felt wrap around you.

“(Y/n)? Have been listening to me? You’ll be organizing this closet today. Our usual servant, Eiias, is out on border control, so you’ll be replacing him just this once. Worry not child, nobody, including King Thranduil, ever comes in here. You have nothing to worry about! Just hang the coats from the traveling rack I brought with us and place them into the closet, neatly, like so”

Cíleth demonstrated how to organize the gowns and how to separate each cloths. This seemed like a rather easy task. You were determined to do a good job. After she had shown you all the different ways to organize, she let herself out. She mentioned that this task would only take 2 hours, maximum. Not too bad, right? That is until, Cíleth pops her lovely head back in and says,

“Oh, that’s right! I nearly forgot. (Y/n), be a dear and take that gown you just hanged to his room. I would personally do it, but I have other, more important, duties that need attending. I really do apologize. Don’t worry, King Thranduil won’t be in there, so there’s not much to it! Just lay it down on his bedside. Make sure it’s on the right, and not left! He’s oddly picky about this and will punish you severely, so make sure you do it correctly!”

_ Your heart drops. _

“His bedroom? I haven’t got the slightest clue where that’d be!” you squeal.

“It’s the third door to the left of his chamber, across the library! You can go when you please, the sooner the better!” she directed.

You want to resist this order, but denying your first real task wouldn’t rub off as quite nice, so you reluctantly agree. You haven’t finished organizing the closet, and simply wanted to get this over with, so you take the hanged robes and head off.

_Three…doors…left…in front of library_

After a good ten minutes of searching, you finally located the room. You arrive at a chamber with large wooden doors and see intricate carvings etched all along the edges of them. It’s unmistakably his chamber.

You knock first, just in case. There’s no answer. You proceed to open the door slowly. There’s a splendid bed, beautiful furniture, and a living space of great size. Out the windows there’s an enchanting view of the forest treetops. It’s a lovely place really. As you stare in admiration, you hear a bath being drawn. Your heart drops. You get hasty and proceed to fulfill your duties quickly. Placing the clothing on the bed, you hear a voice, or rather, _ **his**_  voice enunciate,

“Eiias, bring me the-”

You felt dizzy at the thought of seeing his body, and didn’t dare to enter the bath. Instead, you call out as so,

“I’m sorry sire, I’m not who you seek. He’s been replaced for today. I’ll be going now.”

You hear no reply. Relieved that the king may have put the situation to rest, you take your leave.

“Wait.”, he orders.

You panic, and pretend to not hear him. You escape into back to your original post, which in retrospect wasn’t very bright at all.

_Just focus on organizing his clothes, everything’s going to be okay. He probably bought that I didn’t hear him. After all, humans are inferior in his eyes. Just stay calm._

You calm your breathing and attempt to collect your thoughts. At the moment, the only thing you should be worrying about is finishing that closet. Inelegantly, you attempt to hang the silks just like she showed you, but fail entirely. You’re just too nervous. You then remembered Cilaths voice 

 _"Worry not child, nobody, including King Thranduil, ever comes in here."_  

Repeating this to yourself set ease in your heart. You were safe.

Time passes when, finally, you were able to come to your senses and start the job assigned to you. You hanged robe by robe, each in an orderly fashion. Once completed, you took a second to stare in admiration As you stare at the fabrics, a rather curious thought entered your mind.

A very curious one, indeed.

You slowly walk to extract one of his robes. You joyfully proceed to wrap on the most elegant piece your eye could catch, a beautiful taupe robe with gold thread embroidered all over.

It was in every way extravagant.

You catch your reflection in the mirror. You look familiar. Once the peculiar sensation you received from the sidetrack began to subside, you decide to adjourn your little adventure.

You go to return the robe, when without warning, you’re halted.

It’s him.

You turn and see the king elf standing prominently over you.

He was covered in a light-blue, silk-woven robe. The contrast between his fair skin and material unified together so perfectly, that it almost made him look like an appetizer. You were completely overtaken.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, serious as ever

_This is it, this is how I die._

“I-I I’m, I don’t know”, you manage to word.

“Why do you wear that?” he questions.

You needed to come up with a lie, fast.  
“Cíleth put me in charge of your closet and washing the robes, so I had to-“

He motions for you to be quiet.

“Some deem it, rather, insulting to lie to a king. I recommend you limit the use of your silver tongue”

“I apologize…”

“Have I not forgiven you already? Why must you tempt me to punish you?” he thundered.

“I’m sorry…I do-“

“What good is an apology if you keep undermining my status”

At this point, you already had a grasp of what your future looked like. Chained, imprisoned, or possibly dead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen next. Lol stay tuned

**Author's Note:**

> So um, this is my FIRST fanfiction ever. I didn't really plan on posting this but uhh why not. I could really use some feedback!  
> If you liked it, then LIKE it or leave a comment so i know to continue!  
> If you hated it, then comment telling me why! 
> 
> Any feedback would be appreciated!


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